Musings on sharing my wife sexually with other men, my bisexual side, and about sex in general.

Sunday, January 15, 2006

Little Did I Know

No matter how long I live - how many times I cum - I'll always feel like I'm making up for lost time because of all those years of childhood I spent without knowing how much fun it would be someday to experience the adult orgasm in all its blazing glory. Of all the things that the grown-ups either lied about outright or bent the truth to the point of almost breaking over, sex had to be right up there, especially if you were a little Catholic kid whose parents never really seemed to be sure if having sex wasn't something for which they were going to burn in hell for all eternity even though they were married to each other and did it in the dark with their eyes closed.

Perhaps I was better off than most kids. I discovered on my own, at least, that trying to climb the pole that held up the back porch resulted in a most delightful tingle in my "dickey" (Every adult I knew referred to a penis as a dickey.) and I enjoyed many wonderful dry orgasms climbing that sumabitch as often as I could. Nevertheless, I was missing out on a lot in dry humping a cold, impersonal piece of steel, without a clue even that one's dickey could be put to much better use, with another person, and without the benefit of knowing that later in life said dickey would cough up huge globs of a thick, white fluid that would make that little tingle feel infinitely better upon being squirted forth.

There were clues that I recall, indicating subtly that something delicious was in the works. I remember liking looking at adult women's boobies, particularly in sweaters. (Every adult I knew referred to a set of tits as boobies.) I remember having a story book about a boy's visit to the doctor and getting excited in a very nebulous way whenever I looked at the page where the main character was stripped down to his underpants and the doctor was palpating his belly. I recall liking the look of a set of adult legs in stockings - bonus points if the lady's shoes were off. It's strange - I don't remember being especially fascinated by ladies' asses, yet here I am with a definite preference for looking at, touching, kissing, and licking women's butts.

I'm making up for lost time - those fourteen years or so before I discovered that those occasional tingles down below weren't just incidentally pleasant sensations, but scrumptious sensual feelings to be savored, focused upon, strived for and celebrated, especially without any clothes on, and with others. Would I rather have had a friendly pastor stick his hand down my pants back then to teach me a thing or so? Probably not, but would it have been so bad if somebody had told me that ol' dickey was going to become a virtual amusement park in his own right?

I wonder if there are still people who think they will burn eternally in hell for enjoying sex and do they still do it in the dark? Why has the enjoyment of sex always conjured up the fires of hell in so many people.

Oh, well, I imagine that all of us had some type of something that we climbed up to produce that lovely feeling in our "dickeys".